


Like Silent Raindrops Fell

by rainbowumbrella



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gen, Good Sibling Diego Hargreeves, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:59:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21641329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowumbrella/pseuds/rainbowumbrella
Summary: They always say 'be careful what you wish for'. Klaus never took any of these warnings seriously. He didn't wish for much - he wished for a life away from the ghosts, and a life away from his father, both of which he'd taken upon himself to make sure came true. These old adages made it through the years for a reason, however, and those who listened to them were wise to do so.ORKlaus wakes up to find that his powers have stopped working, but it's not quite as great as he'd always thought it would be.
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 33
Kudos: 88





	1. The Sound of Silence

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to be writing a new chapter for my ongoing series, but when I sat down and started to write, this came out instead. It probably won't be too long, a few chapters at most, but expect your fair share of feelings!
> 
> Chapter title borrowed from a Simon & Garfunkel song, story title borrowed from a line of that song.

It wasn’t unusual, waking up to the sound of medical instruments beeping around him. Really, Klaus didn’t mind it. He almost didn’t mind the lecture that came with it, either - not the one that Ben inevitably gave him, even if these days it sounded more like he was reading a rehearsed speech than actually speaking from his heart, not the one that the doctors gave him, and quite often not even the one that Diego would eventually give him when he got the call from the hospital and made it in time.

Still, he was all too aware of the fact that he wouldn’t exactly be feeling great when he fully woke up, so he tried to fall back asleep, keeping his eyes shut as naturally as he could and just trying to lull himself back into a dream.

Yeah, one of Luther old team meetings might just do it. Though, he supposed, sometimes they were more packed full of anxiety from six siblings that were pitted against each other most of their lives than anything else. No, wait, five. Vanya was never really there, was she? And Five… He disappeared when they were so young that he wasn’t sure he should be included in that count.

The machines kept on beeping and he pulled a pillow over his head.

Really, after all those years being followed around by screaming ghosts, he’d think that he’d have gotten a little less sensitive to noise. Was his old Walkman around, by any chance? Nah, that didn’t make any sense, did it? He wished it were. That thing could usually lull him to sleep in no time. He missed it, but really, he supposed it was safer back at the Academy than it’d have been in his hands. He’d have pawned it off a long time ago, he was sure of that.

Someone dropped something in the corridor and he jumped, jerking so quickly in bed that he had to bite back a yelp of pain as the wires were nearly ripped from his body. The heart monitor wobbled precariously for a moment, beeping rapidly and loudly.

Well, then, that was it.

Klaus leaned back against his pillow with a sigh, an annoyed huff leaving his lips. No more sleep for him, then, he supposed - with some luck, he’d manage to get a nap in later, but he’d never been one for sleeping much, so he supposed he’d see how things went. For now, though, he was wide awake, his body was aching, his stomach was… Well, it’d been through worse, but it wasn’t exactly happy. And the lecture would come in five, four, three, two…

Silence.

Frowning, Klaus sat up, eyes scouring the room in search of Ben. Usually, he was around, sitting on a chair or sometimes cross-legged on the ground, reading a book. But this time, the hospital room was empty.

Huh. He supposed that was probably what being alone felt like.

It wasn’t the first time, even if not by much, but it was probably one of the first times he’d actually been able to appreciate the fact that there was no one else around. No ghosts, no Ben, and no great concern, pain or any other kind of stress to keep him so focused inwards that he hardly even noticed the absence of anyone else.

Most of his life had been spent in search of this - not that he didn’t like Ben, or that he didn’t appreciate his company, but with ghosts following him around for most of his life, he’d spent his early years without even knowing what it was like to be by himself. It was curiosity, in part, and a fair dash of desperation. Peace and quiet were all that he’d ever wanted, even if the path he’d taken might suggest otherwise.

It was the most peace and the most quiet he’d ever experienced, and sure, maybe it was artificial, maybe it brought on a whole other batch of problems, but at first, he hadn’t cared. He’d just needed something to take the ghosts away. And once he’d found it, he just couldn’t let go. He still couldn’t. He tried, sometimes, but the ghosts always drove him right back to square one.

Ona day, maybe. He tried not to think about it too much, he didn’t like to make future plans.

Another glance around the room, and still no Ben. He frowned. This was weird, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

Sure, Ben wasn’t always around. He left, he went to visit the world by himself or do whatever it was that ghosts did when they weren’t busy bothering him - really, he didn’t ask. He had the feeling that Ben didn’t much enjoy talking about it. But usually, there were others, and when there weren’t, he was usually in no state to care.

But now he did, and it was unnerving.

He tapped his fingers against the railing of the bed, trying to see if he could get the beat of some familiar song. He’d never been much of a drummer, but Reginald had had them all learn musical instruments, and he used to be pretty good at getting riffs by ear on his guitar - one time, he was pretty sure that he’d almost seen the corner of his father’s mouth turn into something that might, for anyone else, nearly resemble a smile.

Not that he hadn’t been disappointed by Klaus’ choice of instrument, of course. And that, he’d readily admitted to his siblings, was half the reason why he’d chosen it. When he’d announced his intention to pick up the guitar to his father, he’d also innocently remarked that if he didn’t like it, he could always try an e-guitar instead.

That’d shut down any complaints easily enough.

The fact that he’d turned out to be at least not half bad at it had probably also helped - Vanya took the violin the way that none of them took to their own respective instruments, but him and Diego had turned out to be decent musicians and they’d certainly enjoyed playing. For a moment, he wondered why he didn’t play anymore, and a second later, a laugh escaped his lips. Right, his guitars - both acoustic and electric, an acquisition that he’d kept hidden from his father - were still back at the Academy, and money never stayed in his pockets long enough for him to even consider a purchase like that. He knew, in the end, that it’d just end up at a pawnshop somewhere.

But he missed it, playing.

His fingers came to a halt, and his eyes scanned the room once again. Still no Ben. Where was he?

Everything was so silent. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been so aware of silence before - the beeping of the heart monitor in the background and the rushing back and forth of doctors and nurses outside were nothing compared to the cacophony of ghosts or the deafening music at parties, bars, raves - whatever place he found that could drown out the ghosts for a little while - that he’d grown used to.

He drummed his fingers a little louder, this time humming along with the beat.

No, still not enough.

Closing his eyes, he let out a long sigh. He’d spent so long looking for just this, why did the silence make him want to crawl out of his skin? Nothing seemed to be quite enough to fill it, and he wished he had his Walkman, or - oh, he had just the thing right in the pocket of his coat, didn’t he? If he could just…

Huh.

Usually, it’d be right around this time that Ben would roll his eyes and tell him not to do it, tell him to just stay in bed, get some rest and consider how very lucky he was not to have died. His reply would be something snarky and nine times out of ten he’d ignore Ben’s advice, but his brother still always tried, didn’t he? And that was something. He knew that it couldn’t be easy.

Maybe that was why he wasn’t there, Klaus thought to himself. Maybe he’d gotten tired of everything, maybe he’d given up.

Or maybe he was just taking a walk somewhere and this was just getting blown way out of proportion in his mind. That was probably it. He just wasn’t used to being alone and he was making a big deal out of nothing. He just had to find something to fill the time until Ben got back.

His eyes fell on the TV, and he reached over to grab the remote from his beside table. That should be enough to keep him distracted for a couple of hours, he told himself. It’d been a very, very long time since he’d last really followed any show - or rather, he couldn’t remember ever really following any show, it wasn’t the kind of thing that Sir Reginald would even tolerate - but he could probably catch a movie or just some random episode of something or another. As long as it could keep his mind from wandering, it’d do.  


  


* * *

  


Three and a half movies later, and there was still no sign of Ben.

No Ben, and no other ghosts, Klaus noted. They should be there by now - he’d been out for a while, he figured, considering the fact that he felt considerably less terrible than he’d expected when he’d begun to wake up, and so he’d probably gotten through the worst of it in his sleep. The ghosts never stayed at bay for long, they showed up the moment withdrawal set in - they should’ve been right by his bed when he first woke up.

And hospitals? They were usually so loud.

It was half the reason why he never stayed long if he had the option - he left against the doctor’s recommendations without so much of a second thought. Usually, he could hardly bear to be there.

But this time? Nothing. Not a peep.

His chest was starting to feel awfully tight.

He switched the TV off abruptly, hands moving to cover his face, fingers grasping at a few strands of hair so tightly that it hurt. Something was wrong, something was wrong and he could feel it. He’d been able to feel it from the moment he woke up, but he still didn’t know what it was - it’d taken a while for all of the puzzle pieces to fall together, too.

Slow breaths, he told himself. Slow, deep breaths, and he’d get through it. Slow, deep breaths, and the tightness in his chest would ease, his stomach would settle down - well, probably, whether it was anxiety or lingering withdrawal that was causing his nausea was really anyone’s guess - and he’d feel a little less desperate. Counselors and therapists alike always told him that, and sometimes it truly did work, but this time? He was skeptical.

Skeptical, but that was the best idea he had, so he’d give it a try.

Slow, deep breaths.

No, it wasn’t helping. He could feel the anxiety mounting, and he was itching for something - something that was right there, probably somewhere in that very room - but he couldn’t, he shouldn’t, he wouldn’t.

If he did, then…

What it he could never bring Ben back? What if his whatever it was that made it so that he could always conjure Ben, even when he could hardly tell up from down, just somehow broke down beyond repair? What somehow, his brother was out of his reach now and just needed some help getting back? He knew that whatever ounce of control he had over his power would go away just as easily as his anxiety.

He leaned back on his pillows and let his head hit them heavily, letting out a frustrated groan.

It’d do no one any good, he figured, for him to just lay there and wait for Ben to come back. It’d been a long time, and he’d never known his brother to stay away for hours like this. It was time to take action, no matter how much he might hate it, no matter how much he might have no idea what he was even doing. Anything was better than nothing, right?

So he sat up once again, sitting cross-legged on the bed, and he set his hands out in front of him with their palms up, letting the ‘HELLO’ and ‘GOODBYE’ tattoos resemble their Ouija board counterparts. Would it help? Probably not. But hey, he’d never managed to figure out the ropes in this, so anything that might give him an edge was worth trying, right?

He cleared his throat, took in a deep breath, closed his eyes, and began.

“Hey, uh, Ben? You there?” He tried, peeking out of one eye to try and catch a glimpse of his brother. “Look, I get that you need some alone time every once in a while, but uh… I’m just kinda worried, so if you could just pop in real quick, let me know that everything’s okay back there in the spirit world, that’d be great. You know, just a ‘hey, my favorite brother, long time no see, gotta go, bye’ - that’s fine.”

Another peek. Still no Ben.

“Look, I - I get it. I’m a handful. Charming and at very least the least boring out of the seven of us, but a handful. I know. But Ben, I - I really need you right now. Just a - a quick drop in, huh? Then you can get back to whatever you do when you’re not here. Or - oh, hey, is there such a thing as a ghost telephone? Oh, I guess that’d be me. Well, you know I don’t really know how this works, but if you want to just say something without popping in, I can work with that.”

Nothing.

Klaus swallowed, bit his lip, and let out a sigh. He really, really didn’t want to do this, but he had to know.

“Okay, then… Is anyone here? Any ghosts feel like saying hello? Is this thing on, am I…”

Klaus had slept outside, sometimes even in the snow despite Ben’s many very well-founded arguments as to why that was a terrible idea that could easily get him killed, on many a cold night. And yet he’d never felt his blood turning to ice quite as clearly as he did at that moment.

The idea had occurred to him, of course. The moment he noticed that there were no ghosts around when there _should_ be ghosts filling the room to the brim, it was the first thing that popped to mind.

And so, he supposed, it really shouldn’t surprise him so much. But it did. It surprised him, and it terrified him, and the relief that he always thought would be there if this finally happened was nowhere to be seen. No powers meant no ghosts, and he certainly wouldn’t miss that, but no powers also meant no Ben, and…

He missed Five so much. He wasn’t sure he could handle missing Ben like he missed Five. And he was so close to him - they’d been friends before his death, closer to each other than they’d been to any of the others, though Ben had always been a good friend of every single one of them. But after Ben’s death, with Klaus being the only one who could see him and with Ben being the only one who stuck by his side through thick and thin… They’d become friends on a whole different level.

No, he couldn’t do this.

He couldn’t say goodbye to Ben, he couldn’t - he wouldn’t.

His chest grew tighter by the second, and soon enough he was gasping for breath, hyperventilating at the same time that he felt like he was suffocating. Fingers gripped the railing of his bed, curling around them strongly enough that his knuckles turned white.

No, no, no, no.

It was never meant to be like this.

The sound of the heart monitor in the background was growing to be deafening, and soon enough, there were doctors and nurses in the room, talking to him in voices he was sure were meant to be calming, carefully trying to get him to lay back on the bed, steady his breathing. But they didn’t get it, did they? He’d just lost another sibling. He’d lost Ben, and dammit, it was his own fault, wasn’t it?

His whole life, he’d tried to get rid of his power, and now he’d finally done it.

He’d laugh if he could get enough air for that.

And then he was stumbling out of bed, pushing past worried staff and a few inanimate objects that he was sure were also trying to stop him. He grabbed his clothes, folded neatly on a chair, and made a beeline for the door, hurrying down corridors and rushing out the door of the hospital all while ignoring concerned shouts urging him to stop.

Truth to be told, he wasn’t sure why he left. All he knew was that he couldn’t be there anymore, he had to leave, he had to…

What?

Now he did laugh, a hysterical, hopeless laugh that Ben always rolled his eyes at - and yet somehow he always knew what to say, too. But Ben wasn’t there anymore, was he? He was gone, and for good this time. So why not let that feeling consume him? Why not laugh until the tears pouring down his cheek weren’t from the effort of laughing, but from the loss of his brother, from the guilt squeezing his heart so tightly he wasn’t quite sure he was still alive anymore. Why not let his knees give out and just sit there, out in the pouring rain?

He’d done it all before, after all.

And this time… This time there was no help coming, because Ben was gone.

Oh, he’d really done it this time. He’d really screwed everything up, hadn’t he?

Sobs dissolved into hiccups, and hiccups eventually became something a little more controllable. Klaus wiped the tears he was sure were still streaming down his face, though it was hard to tell with the rain still drenching him, and shakily got to his feet. He wouldn’t accept this, he decided. He’d failed Ben so, so many times before, he wasn’t going to fail him now. No, he had no idea how he was going to reverse this - he wasn’t too sure how it’d even happened, truth to be told - but he was going to figure it out, and he was going to fix it.

Shivering, half from the rain and half from sheer exhaustion, he started to trudge down the street.

He wasn’t aware of ever making the decision to go there, but soon enough, he found himself standing at a familiar doorstep - familiar enough that he knew just how to get in despite the locked door. It wasn’t a graceful descent into the gym, and sure, he may have bruised a few things as he fell straight into the sink, but he brushed it off and quickly rushed to the back room, knocking on the door as he hugged his drenched clothes to his chest.

It took a moment, but eventually the door opened, revealing an annoyed Diego on the other side. Annoyance, though, was quickly replaced by worry, and all it took was a hand on his shoulder for Klaus to break down in sobs once again.


	2. Hearing Without Listening

Diego had helped him to the couch about an hour ago, and he’d been crying ever since. He wanted to tell his brother what was going on, he wanted to explain how he’d finally managed to screw up so monumentally that he wasn’t sure how to fix it, but he couldn’t seem to string together a coherent sentence - at most, he got out ‘Ben’ and ‘ghosts’ and ‘gone’, but even then, he wasn’t sure whether Diego would be able to decipher the trembling, stumbling words.

His brother had sat down with him on the couch and held him like when they were children, like in the days when training was particularly harsh and he crumbled the moment he was alone, It was usually Ben or Diego who came to find him, occasionally Allison or Vanya. Sir Reginald had done a good job of drilling into their heads that they had no time for anything that he construed as weakness, but those days… Those days his siblings found the time, and he was incredibly thankful that they did, because as much as he had to face a lot of things alone, he wasn’t sure that he’d have made it through childhood without them.

Sometimes he wasn’t sure that he did.

But he supposed that some part of him must have, and that part - that part might not be there if it weren’t for them. Though then again, there were parts of him that hadn’t made it _because_ of them, so he supposed maybe in the end it evened out.

He was still thankful, though. He was thankful for those childhood days when they comforted him, and he was thankful for Diego holding him now, because he wasn’t sure that he’d ever remember how to breathe or how to stop crying if he weren’t. Diego’s arm around him was grounding, and it might have taken him an hour to find his way back from the whirlwind of panic and horror and sadness and mourning that he’d been caught in, but he did find his way back.

He shivered as he wiped the tears from his eyes, biting a trembling lip in an attempt to stop himself from breaking down in sobs again. He swallowed, and his throat hurt from crying, but he knew that he had to speak now, before he couldn’t hold the tears back anymore.

“I - it’s…” He rubbed his eyes, hoping that his head would stop swimming for a second, but he knew that it was no use. “He’s gone, Diego. I tried, I - I tried so hard to conjure him but he’s gone, he’s gone, they’re all gone and it’s so quiet, it’s - it’s never this quiet.”

Diego pulled back a little, and Klaus had to stop himself from flinching. He was mad, wasn’t he? Of course he was mad. Who could blame him, when Klaus had effectively just nailed Ben’s coffin shut? He’d lost him, he’d lost the last link they had to him. There was nothing left now, nothing but their memory of him and goodness, was this what people went through when they lost someone?

“Hey, hey, back up a little.” Diego said, hands on his shoulders, slowly moving Klaus so that he was facing him. “Who’s gone?”

“Ben!” How was he not getting this? Oh, wait, had he actually said that it was Ben before? Right, that could be confusing. “Ben and… All the other ghosts. But the others don’t matter, I just - I never thought… I didn’t mean to send him away, Diego! I just wanted the others gone, I - I never meant for this to happen, never.”

He never expected the reaction he got from Diego.

Klaus wasn’t actually sure that he’d run through the possible scenarios in his head, far more preoccupied with other things. He’d expected shouting, though - anger. Part of him had been expecting that he’d get kicked out, even. There’d be a confrontation, and Diego would blame him, but it’d all hopefully end with Diego helping him, even if only for Ben’s sake. He could work with that, he was no stranger to any of it.

But instead, his brother was just quiet.

He didn’t say anything, he hardly even moved - he just sat there, a small frown on his face, eyes fixed on what seemed liked a random spot, unless he’d suddenly developed an extreme interest in peeling paint and found it simply fascinating. That… That was unnerving. Klaus could take being yelled at, he had years of practice, he could take the anger, he could even handle Diego’s love for knives. Would he rather not be at the end of their blade? Definitely. But it wouldn’t be first time, it probably wouldn’t be the last, and he could _handle_ it.

This silence, though?

It was killing him inside, and he wasn’t even sure why.

“Diego?” He called his brother, frowning. “Diego, come on, say something! I know I screwed up, okay? I know, I - I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t - it wasn’t on purpose, or maybe - maybe it kind of was, but I never thought this would happen, I never thought any of this would happen. I didn’t think… I didn’t think it was possible. But I can fix it, I have to be able to fix it. Just - I don’t know how, I need - I need help, Diego. _Please_.”

Diego blinked, and for a moment Klaus thought that maybe he’d finally gotten through to him, but his next words made him lose a little of that hope.

“What do you mean they’re gone?” Diego asked.

Klaus had to take a deep breath to bite back the tears beginning to sting at his eyes once again. His lips trembled, and he bit down on them, telling himself that he could get through this without falling to pieces once again. He had to, Ben might depend on it.

“I can’t see them anymore. I can’t, I - I tried, and - you know, it’s not hard. Seeing them, I mean. They’re just always there, the second I start to come down they’re there, waiting, and now they’re not and Ben isn’t, and I tried - I tried conjuring them like Dad always tried to teach me to do, but there’s just - there’s no one there. There’s no one, no one. You know uh - Joyce, the ghost that hangs out up there at the gym? She’s gone. Don, the one who’s usually in here - I think he fell and hit his head on the stairs… He’s gone. There should be ghosts here, Diego, and they’re gone and it’s so, so quiet, and Ben - I can’t find him, I can’t summon him, and I can’t - I can’t do this, Diego. I can’t.”

He wasn’t responding again and Klaus just _knew_ that if he were there, Ben would be chastising him for dumping too much on Diego all at once. That made his heart twinge, and he pulled his legs up on the couch, hugging them close to his chest. It was the most comfort he was going to get, he knew that, because Ben was gone and Diego had already comforted him - now that he knew why, Klaus doubted that it’d happen again.

Everyone knew he was a screw-up. They just got a little pissed when they got a reminder like this.

“You can’t see ghosts anymore?” Diego asked.

Klaus tried not to be annoyed. Hadn’t he been clear about this? Diego was missing the point, they had to fix that, and quickly! What if Ben slipped away? What if he got lost somehow, and Klaus couldn’t find him? What even happened to ghosts when he wasn’t around?

“No, I - I can’t,” he confirmed.

Diego frowned.

“So you’re telling me that you came all the way here crying like a baby because you finally got what you’ve been looking for since we were kids?” There was a clear hint of disbelief in Diego’s voice, and Klaus couldn’t really blame him for it. When he put it like that, it really sounded absurd, but it was true.

Then again, he missed the part where _Ben_ was gone.

“Yes, yes!” He confirmed, bouncing a little on the couch for emphasis.

It didn’t seem to get his point across. Diego was still looking at him like he didn’t believe a word that he’d said - Klaus was all too familiar with that look - and if the circumstances were at all different, he’d have let out a groan of frustration. Why did his siblings never, ever believe him?

“Diego, you’re not listening to me!” He complained, shifting so that he was more kneeling than sitting on the couch, his legs supporting most of his weight. “He’s gone. Ben is gone. I don’t care about the other ghosts, I just - I wanted him back. I need him back, Diego, I can’t do this, please, just - I’ll make it up to you, okay? I’ll - I’ll do anything you want, _anything_. Just please help me, just this once!”

“Just this once? Klaus, I’ve - “ He trailed off, his brows furrowing into a frown. “Wait, Ben?”

Klaus froze.

He’d been so caught up in his grief and desperation, he realized, that he’d overlooked a rather important point. His siblings didn’t believe him about Ben. Not even Diego, who might not be the most understanding of the four, but who was easily the one to whom he was closest these days. Ben excepted, of course.

Every time he brought up the subject, every time he even tried to prove that he was telling the truth, they shut him down so quickly that he wasn’t sure he even got to finish the sentence. He’d considered trying to corner them into a conversation a few times, but he always ended up dismissing the idea fairly quickly. It wasn’t like they’d believe him anyway, they never did, not about this or pretty much anything else. Oh, he knew he didn’t have the best track record, and he didn’t always blame them for not trusting him, but - well, there were times when he felt they were being a bit _harsh_.

Huh.

He’d almost managed to distract himself from the oncoming onslaught.

Almost.

“Come on, Klaus, what do you want? Money, a place to crash? I’m not giving you a cent, but if you wanna stay… You know what, fine. One night, and that’s it. And if I find anything missing when you leave - “

Klaus sat himself back on the couch, drawing his knees tightly to his chest, head burying in them and harms bracing his legs. He almost managed to drown out the sound of whatever Diego was saying, and he had enough practice with the subject that he knew that if he just focused on remembering something hard enough, he’d manage to ignore it.

He decided to try to remember a paragraph from Vanya’s book.

Her book was one of the few things that’d ever lasted longer than a few weeks in his hands - he’d managed to keep it for a good few months before eventually throwing it out when it was soaked in a storm. He’d read it more times than he could count, though - usually not cover-to-cover, but he’d read select chapters and passages, sometimes just to pass the time, sometimes to help calm himself down. There was something strangely soothing about reading his sister publicly calling out their father for everything he’d put them through, even if she did also call them all out on how they treated her - and each other, for that matter.

Sure, she didn’t paint a very nice image of him, not after she got through their childhood and moved on to teenage years. She could have done a lot of damage if Klaus hadn’t already done so himself - oh, how the press had loved it when he left home, when Sir Reginald was no longer protecting his image for the sake of his precious Umbrella Academy. Vanya hadn’t given them too much that Klaus himself already hadn’t, and he supposed that the newspapers didn’t much care about an already tarnished image.

How did the passage go again?

It was something about that night, the night that Five left. Vanya was easily the closest of them to Five, and it showed when she spoke of him - he seemed softer than Klaus remembered him, softer than he remembered any of his siblings ever thinking he was. But even though most of them didn’t quite get along with Five, they were all shaken by his disappearance.

Sir Reginald insisted on seeing dinner through, and they all ate in silence, clearly distracted, clearly distressed. When they were dismissed for study time before bed, Pogo and Grace gave them some light reading - fiction, for once, which Klaus found he thoroughly enjoyed - and sent them off to bed with their books. None of them did much reading, though, nor much sleeping.

How was it that Vanya told the story again?

> _I tossed and turned for most of that night. It was impossible to sleep not knowing what had happened to Five, whether he was okay or ever coming back or even alive. I wanted to go talk to Mom so badly, or one of my siblings - Ben would have been a huge comfort - but I knew that Dad would never have allowed it. So I tried to sleep, but sleep never came._
> 
> _What did come instead was a knock on the wall next to mine. I knew who it was immediately, of course - the room next to mine was Klaus’ and since our rooms were separated by a rather thin wall, it was easy to have a whole conversation through it. We hadn’t done that in years, though, and I’d almost forgotten about it._
> 
> _He asked me if I was still awake, and I told him I couldn’t sleep with Five out there all on his own. He said he couldn’t, either. We spoke about our fears, he told me that he’d tried to conjure Five and, thankfully, failed. I veered the conversation towards our studies and read him a short essay I’d written on the French Revolution. He provided helpful feedback based on what a ghost had once told him from personal experience._
> 
> _We talked for hours, and we both fell asleep sitting against that wall. I hadn’t expected that, but that night reignited the old habit of checking in on each other when we couldn’t sleep, and for a while longer, we’d have at least weekly conversations. Mom would come to find us asleep on the floor next to the wall the following morning. For the first time in so long, I felt like part of the family once again._

It was one of the nicer passages of the book regarding him, and he treasured it in a way that he almost found… Strange.

It shouldn’t matter to him that much, he figured, that he’d once done something nice for Vanya and she remembered. He’d done plenty of nice things for all of his siblings, and sure, most of the time it either went unnoticed or they found a way to complain about it ( _no, Klaus, I don’t want your stolen chocolate; hey, never mind the fact that you just baked me some very nice cookies, how the hell did you get in?_ ), but it shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter because he knew exactly what they thought of him, it shouldn’t matter because they’d parted ways a long time ago.

What was the last time he’d even seen Vanya?

A tap on his shoulder had him jumping and almost scrambling off the couch before settling down once again, a hand over his chest. His heart hammered inside it, and he tried to steady his breathing. Well, the good news was that it'd worked, he’d completely drowned out Diego. The bad news was that his brother seemed to want to give him a heart attack.

“Diego, did Mom never teach you that you can’t sneak up on people like that?” He asked, still trying to slow his frantic heart.

Diego, however, showed no sympathy. “Did you even listen to any of what I said?”

“What? Oh, no, no. But don’t worry, that was _completely_ on purpose.” Diego looked less than impressed at that, so Klaus decided to quickly move on to more important matters. “Diego, I’m not - “ He let out a small laugh, shaking his head at himself. It didn’t really bode well that his words sounded strange even to him, did it? “I’m not looking for a place to crash, okay? I mean, I wouldn’t say no to it if you’re offering, but - I’m not looking for money, I’m not looking for any of that, okay?”

Diego let out a frustrated sigh at that. “Then what are you looking for, Klaus? Come on, you can’t show up at my door crying and not expect me to ask questions!”

“I told you!” Oh, he was really going to break down into hysterics there, wasn’t he? Klaus leaned his head back as he let out an exasperated laugh. “I told you already, Diego, I just want your help, I just - I just want to bring Ben back.”

There was a pause at that, and Diego frowned, shifting in his seat. “Wait, you’re serious?”

“Yes, yes!” Was he finally getting somewhere? Oh, Diego was getting a prize for that later - it’d only taken him saying the same thing three or four times before he finally got it, before he finally believed him! That had to a record for his siblings. Except for Ben, of course, but it didn’t really seem fair to include him in the competition considering the fact that he was pretty much always around somewhere.

Klaus wondered whether he was there at that moment and he just couldn’t see him.

That made his heart twinge and his lunch (dinner? Breakfast?) seriously consider rejoining the outside world, so Klaus decided to just focus on something else. It couldn’t be that hard, right?

“You - you lost your power? You really lost your power?” Diego asked.

Patiently, or at least doing his best impression of patience, Klaus nodded.

“And Ben… You really saw him? Before, I mean. All those times you mentioned it, you - you were serious. You weren’t - “

“Lying? About seeing our dead brother? You know, Diego, I’ve done a lot of really crappy things in my life - and I do mean a lot, you… Oh, Diego, you don’t know the half of it. But lying about Ben? Do you really think I’d do something like that?”

“It’s not you have the best track record, you know? And what about Five? You never managed to conjure him, but there we were at Ben’s funeral and you’re - you’re talking to him like nothing happened? You’re laughing and - “ Diego trailed off, running a hand over his face and shaking his head. “But you know what, Klaus? I believe you, alright? I… Man, I’ve never seen you like that. You show up in a hospital gown, completely drenched and crying - I believe you.”

It shouldn’t feel that great to hear that, either, should it? No one had believed him for years, and he’d - well, he wouldn’t say that he did alright for himself, but he was pretty sure the two were unrelated. Diego believing him wouldn’t have kept the ghosts at bay when he could still see them. But believing him about that, it was just common courtesy, right? You were supposed to believe your medium brother when he said that he could see your recently departed sibling. It shouldn’t feel like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. His eyes should definitely not be stinging.

But it did feel like that, and his eyes were stinging, and dammit, he couldn’t start crying again. They were never going to get anywhere at this pace.

“Okay, so - what happened? Why can’t you see ghosts anymore?” Diego asked.

Klaus shook hie head, shrugging slightly. His hands had found the sequins of the shirt he was still holding, and he kept his gaze focused strictly on that. “I don’t know. I - I woke up in the hospital and Ben wasn’t there, and there weren’t any ghosts and there should’ve been ghosts, but I - it was so _quiet_ , Diego. It’s never that quiet. I - I thought maybe Ben had left to… I don’t know, see the world, swim with dolphins, whatever it is that he does when he’s not around. But he never came back, and the ghosts never showed and eventually I realized that they - they weren’t coming. Ben’s not coming back.”

“Okay.” Diego nodded thoughtfully, and Klaus vaguely wondered whether he meant to look somewhat like Luther when he did that or whether it was just a coincidence. He decided that either way, asking about would probably get him punched, though. “What was different about this time? Did the doctors tell you anything?”

Once again, Klaus shrugged. “I don’t know, I didn’t really talk to them. I just kind of… Ran over here.”

The look that Diego got on his face reminded him strangely of Ben every time that - well, pretty much at least half the time, Klaus figured. For a moment, he wondered whether that was a family thing, then quickly reminded himself that they weren’t related to each other by blood. Could disappointed and annoyed looks be environmentally learned? The evidence seemed to support that.

Standing up, Diego slapped him upside the head and gestured for him to get off the couch. “You’re an idiot, you know that?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at Klaus.

Yes, he knew that. Of course he was an idiot, pushing his limits until he lost Ben, hardly even appreciating his brother’s constant presence until was gone. The silence was… Suffocating. He’d get used to it, he was sure he could get used to it, but losing Ben was - he couldn’t let that happen. He’d pay whatever price he had to pay if it meant getting his brother back.

So yes, he was an idiot. He was pretty sure he’d made that clear. “If by idiot you mean misunderstood genius, of course.” He placed a hand over his heart, smirking playfully at Diego.

His brother rolled his eyes, and he considered it a mission accomplished. “If something is going wrong with your powers, then the doctors might’ve noticed something weird. You’re sure this hasn’t happened before?”

“Uhm, let me see, have I ever lost the ability to see ghosts altogether, even when I’m sober? That’s a tough one, Diego.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

Diego put on a familiar annoyed look - really, he’d number them if he had any hopes of actually remembering the numbering later - and Klaus could’ve sworn his hand twitched towards a knife. Then again, he carried so many of them that it might’ve twitched towards a knife regardless of to which direction it moved. “If you want my help on this, Klaus, you better watch the attitude.”

“Hey, look who’s talking! You’re all attitude.” Klaus complained, crossing his arms over his chest.

“ _Klaus._ ”

“Fine, fine.” It was Klaus’ turn to roll his eyes. “So, what’s the plan, _mon capitaine_?”

“The plan is you get dressed, we go back to the hospital and we talk to those doctors, try to figure out what was different about this time, what happened to make you lose your powers.” Diego explained, tossing the pair of leather pants he’d dropped on his way to the couch back to him. It landed perfectly on his lap.

“Why would they know anything? It’s not like anyone understands our powers.” Klaus pointed out.

Diego shrugged. “You wanna go to the hospital or do you wanna go to Dad?”

That quickly shut down any complaints from Klaus. No matter how much he might dislike hospitals - not that it’d be that bad, he figured, now that the ghosts were gone - he’d rather spend his whole life in one than ever contact his father again, much less to ask for his help in anything related to his power.

He wasn’t going to Sir Reginald for this, and that was a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little late because I edited it three or so times before I was marginally happy with it. The response to the first chapter was super heartwarming, and I hope I managed to live up to it with this one! And once again, I'd love to hear what you guys think!
> 
> Chapter title once again borrowed from 'The Sound of Silence' by Simon and Garfunkel.


	3. While I Was Sleeping

The return to the hospital was less than graceful, and Klaus found himself rather glad for his brother’s relative fluency in arguing. Not that the whole family couldn’t be crowned for that, but Diego and Luther’s nearly daily rows had made Diego, in Klaus’ opinion, the expert of the family. So when they got to the hospital and were met with a very grumpy staff that were absolutely not in the mood to debate anything but how irresponsible it’d been of him to run out into the street in the pouring rain without even signing his discharge papers, Diego was prompt to intervene on his behalf and try to explain the situation. When that didn’t work, though… Well, Klaus supposed he shared some of the blame. He probably shouldn’t have led with his disappearing dead brother, things like that tended to put people off, especially if they were already mad at him.

Seven ‘Klaus, shut up’s, a handful of implications of professional inadequacy, three reassurances that yes, he could see dead people and yes, they were sure that they were really ghosts and not hallucinations and two attempts at luring him away from the argument with money for the vending machine later, Diego managed to negotiate a meeting between them and the doctor that had been attending to Klaus. Huh, Diego, negotiating? It was impressive how well he could do that, how well he could defuse a situation, considering how easily he antagonized pretty much everyone in the family.

Then again, they pretty much all did that.

Maybe pitting them against each other their whole lives wasn’t the best way to foster a team spirit. If only their father had bothered to pick up a parenting book, then maybe they’d be slightly more well-adjusted adults. Brilliant revelations.

Klaus pulled himself out of his thoughts - he’d retreated there after Diego sent him a particularly threatening glare following his claim that this hospital was easily among the top five easiest to run from and that they should really look into that - as they approached the doctor’s office. Klaus was still skeptical of the idea that a doctor would be able to tell him anything useful about his powers considering the fact that their very birth defied pretty much everything science knew about human conception and fetal development, but he supposed Diego was right - it wasn’t like they had much to go on. There was one person who actually understood, at least to some extent, their powers, and it was someone neither one of them ever wanted to see again.

Klaus had once opened a newspaper to see a picture of their father and he’d literally screamed. It was the one reason why he was mad at Vanya for her book - it’d prompted several newspapers and magazines to write their own exposes on Reginald, and for a few weeks he could barely turn a corner without seeing a picture of their father.

They went through the usual greetings, sat at the desk, and the doctor opened a file a little too thick to say anything good. And so it began.

As it’d turned out, Klaus had been right about the fact that he’d been at the hospital for a while - Klaus had to stop Diego from berating the staff for not having called him sooner and explain that he’d taken him off his emergency contact list, which he was sure was going to lead to a lovely conversation later - and the doctor confirmed, at Diego’s request, that anything Klaus had taken had long since left his system. He’d fallen into a coma shortly after his arrival at the hospital, but had come out of it the previous day, and while the doctor made sure to underline that none of this was good, that he could have died and should look for help - a speech that usually just had Klaus rolling his eyes, but to which he was actually _listening_ this time, and that scared him more than he was ready to admit - it was all easily explainable and none of it showed any abnormalities. They’d run a whole battery of tests, and save for a strong recommendation that he look after himself, there was nothing to report.

Which, the doctor had offhandedly pointed out, was actually surprising given his history.

Yeah, he’d heard that before. But now _something_ had gotten to him, and he didn’t know how to deal with it.

They left the hospital with a copy of pretty much every test they’d ever run on him that they had on file - Klaus had convinced Diego to leave behind the psych evals, but it had not been an easy task - and a while later, they were sitting at Diego’s place, surrounded by far more paperwork than Klaus thought he’d ever seen in his life.

“I’m telling you, Diego, we’re not going to find anything.” He whined, throwing a small stack of papers aside with a frustrated groan. “We’re not doctors, half of this doesn’t even make _sense_. Why do they need so many letters, can’t they just write words?”

“We don’t need to understand it, we just need to see if there’s anything different, we need to see what changed. Something’s got to have caused it and all of this,” he gestured at the room around them, though there was a slight gleam of disapproval in his eye that Klaus most certainly didn’t miss. “Is basically a detailed record of what’s been going on in your body for the past…”

“Oh, about since a little before I left the Academy.” Klaus supplied.

Diego let out a sigh.

Klaus ran a hand through his hair, letting a few locks tangle with his fingers as he thought. There was a very good chance that they were chasing ghosts looking through all of this. Who knew whether they were even measuring the right things? Klaus sincerely doubted that his ability to see ghosts had anything to do with his blood sugar or peptide levels. Not for the first time since this had happened, and certainly not for the first time since he was little, Klaus wished that he could understand his powers better. He’d never learned how to control them, he’d hardly even learned how to suppress them, and he definitely didn’t understand how they actually worked. If he did, then maybe he’d know for what they were even supposed to be looking. But for all Sir Reginald had tried to teach him, he’d never once mentioned the actual functioning of his powers. Whether that meant that he didn’t know or simply that he preferred to keep them in the dark, Klaus wasn’t sure, but the anger boiling inside of him for the moment suggested the latter.

“Diego, the doctor said nothing changed. I think he knows what he’s talking about better than us.” Klaus argued, throwing himself back onto the floor with a frustrated motion.

Klaus couldn’t see him, but he was pretty sure that Diego pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed, his voice letting on a bit of carefully controlled irritation. “Well, maybe he missed something. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for.”

“Neither do we!”

“You wanna - you w - wanna give up, is that it?” Diego snapped. “Because this is the only idea that I’ve got, and I don’t see you coming up with anything else yourself. So either get to work and stop complaining, or we’re calling it.”

Klaus pushed himself back to a sitting position and nodded mutely.

Diego was right, he knew that he was right, but the acronyms were making his head hurt, his stomach was still unsettled, and he really, really wanted to reach into the pocket of his coat. He told himself that it was just to make sure that it was still there, safe and sound for once they solved this, but he knew that was a lie. The silence was deafening, he desperately missed his brother, and the guilt that sat in his chest felt like it was going to crush him at any second. He just wanted to be numb, and he knew that.

But this time… This time, he promised himself, he was going to fight it, because Ben deserved better than to be abandoned like that. He’d done far, far more for him than Klaus thought he would ever be able to pay back.

“Hey, Diego?” Diego gave him a reprimanding look, but Klaus brushed it aside. “Do you think we could turn on some music?”

“Seriously, Klaus? We’re trying to figure out what the hell is going on with you and you want to listen to music?” Diego raised an eyebrow at him.

Klaus shrugged slightly, though the way he was playing with the edges of the papers in his hands gave away the he wasn’t quite as nonchalant over the scolding than he might appear. “It’s just… Really quiet in here.”

Diego let out a small sigh, but he nodded. “Yeah, fine. Just turn on the radio, it should be… I think it’s under those files over there.”

A quick flip of the switch had Queen flooding the room, and Klaus’ lips quirked up into the slightest of smiles. Yeah, that was better.

  


* * *

  


The work was slow going and, ultimately, Klaus was sure that it’d be futile, which only made it all much more frustrating. A few times, when either he or Diego excused themselves to go to the bathroom, Klaus tried to conjure Ben, he tried to feel even an ounce of whatever it was that allowed him to communicate with ghosts, but it just wasn’t there. Ben just wasn’t there. And every time, he promptly buried himself back in the dozens of papers surrounding him to try and hide the tears stinging at his eyes.

He was pretty sure that Diego saw them, and that was okay. He wasn’t embarrassed, he just didn’t want to talk about it. There was nothing really to talk about, anyway.

They worked for hours, poring over every report, matching numbers, and Klaus might have thought that it was an exercise in futility, especially considering the fact that they didn’t even understand the numbers or acronyms that they were reading, but he kept quiet about it. Diego was right, it was the only idea they had, and until they came up with something else, it was all they could do to try and solve this.

Eventually, though, and Klaus couldn’t quite remember when, exhaustion won over.

  


* * *

  


Everything was dark.

Klaus couldn’t remember it ever being quite _that_ dark. Even in the mausoleum, heavy doors closed, small windows lit only by the moonlight and the stars, it hadn’t been this dark. He remembered childhood excursions to the attic with his siblings in the dead of night, when they’d sit around on the floor, a makeshift tent around them, and tell stories as though they were camping. They hardly dared to take a flashlight with them or turn on the attic light, so they were usually left in the dark. Still, Klaus remembered being able to see flashes of a dim light stream through old wood boards, he remembered that clear nights made for much brighter lighting than those when it rained or when the sky was completely covered by clouds.

But this wasn’t like that. This was the complete absence of light, it was not being able to see his own body, it was complete and utter darkness.

If Klaus wasn’t a fan of the dark, this absolutely terrified him.

He tried to touch something, to find the ground, or anything that might tell him where he was, but his hands were met with nothing. He brought one up to his face. He could feel it, he could touch it. Good. So at least he was still there.

Feeling his chest tighten to the point where it was getting increasingly difficult to breathe, he decided to walk. Why, or where he was going, he didn’t know, but he put one foot in front of the other, and he kept on doing so for a few minutes. He wasn’t sure he was moving. He wasn’t sure it was possible to move. He wasn’t sure that there was a floor, even though he felt as though there was gravity. Or maybe he just thought there was gravity because he was used to it?

He wasn’t sure.

He didn’t like this place.

Eventually, he stopped walking. Instead, he decided to try to find out if there was anyone there. He called out the question, and he was sure that he could feel the words leaving his lips, he could hear them, but somehow, he just knew they didn’t travel at all.

He felt his stomach turn in knots.

And suddenly, something yanked him away.

  


* * *

  


“KLAUS!”

Klaus jumped, elbows hitting the ground painfully, papers flying away. He groaned. He’d organized them so carefully.

His eyes moved up to find Diego staring at him, his face inscrutable.

Klaus rolled his eyes, running a hand over his face and trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. He was pretty sure that he was considerably more tired now than he’d been when he fell asleep, and that was saying something. “Jeez, Diego, I just fell asleep for a few minutes.” He yawned, pushing himself into a sitting position. “I’ll get right back to work, I promise.”

But Diego wasn’t moving, and he kept on staring at him with that same expression on his face. Funny, Klaus was pretty sure that he knew that look, even if he wasn’t quite able to place it just yet.

“Uh… Everything okay there, Diego?” He asked.

Diego blinked, cleared his throat, and crossed his arms over his chest.

Oh, he knew that one now. It was ‘you really screwed up, Klaus, but I’m concerned so I’ll save the lecture for later’. It was pretty close to ‘you really screwed up, Klaus, but I’m too tired to argue’, but the arms crossed over his chest kind of gave it away. He wondered, vaguely, what it was that he’d done this time.

“What did you take, Klaus?”

Klaus frowned.

“Come on, just spit it out. I won’t be mad, I promise, I just - I need to know, okay?”

The frown deepened. “Nothing.” He argued, and if he sounded a little defensive, he felt he was entitled to it. Why was Diego just assuming that he’d taken something? Sure, his track record was… Less than great, and he’d certainly thought about it - well, almost constantly since he’d woken up, but he hadn’t, he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t until he got Ben back.

“Don’t lie to me, Klaus, not now.”

“I’m not! I’m not.” He insisted, moving so that he was on his knees.

And that was he saw it. There was blood on his hand. He moved to run his fingers over the space between his nose and his mouth, and they came away smeared with fresh blood. Huh. That was… Odd. The room wasn’t dry at all - if anything, it was pretty humid.

“Klaus! You wouldn’t wake up, you’re coated in sweat, your nose is bleeding - “

“I’m just tired! And nosebleeds happen, Diego! Come on, you’ve been here with me the whole time, when would I even have taken something?” Klaus argued.

Clearly, it was the wrong thing to say, for Diego only looked more annoyed at that. “You really think that after all these years I don’t know your tricks, Klaus? You’ve been to the bathroom at least three times since we got here, that’s plenty of opportunities, and that’s not counting the times I wasn’t in the room or - you know what, you know fully well the holes in your story. Just - just tell me.”

“I didn’t! Can’t you just - why don’t you believe me?”

“Why don’t I - “ Diego shook his head, fists clenching, and Klaus decided that he’d once again chosen the exact wrong thing to say. For a moment, he nearly glanced over at Ben for support, but he managed to stop himself just in time. Good, if this was already painful, not seeing him when he expected to would have been absolutely heart-wrenching. “Do you really want to do this right now?”

Klaus let out a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. No, he didn’t. He really, really didn’t. He had his failures in life and all the times he’d let people down pointed out to him often enough, and he knew - he _knew_ \- that he gave people good reason to distrust him. He didn’t need to hear it again, and he wasn’t sure that he could handle that on top of everything else.

He just wanted Ben back.

“No. No, I don’t.”

“Then just - “

“You know what? I think… I think I’m going a bit stir-crazy in here. I’m just gonna go for a little walk, I’ll be right back.” He moved to push himself to his feet, and the whole world went black.

  


* * *

  


He was back there again.

Where ‘there’ was remained a mystery, but Klaus was certain that no two places could be like this, so he was confident that it was the same spot. Darkness surrounded him, and everything except for himself seemed to be completely intangible - though he supposed that it was rather presumptuous of him to assume that there was such a thing as matter in this place. Maybe things were not intangible, maybe they just… Weren’t.

Klaus shivered, though it wasn’t from the cold.

Was it cold? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t seem to be warm, but he also didn’t seem to be cold - the temperature wasn’t even comfortable. He realized after a moment that he wasn’t sure that there was such a thing as temperature there. Vaguely, he recalled a physics lesson that pretty much proved that impossible, and yet there it was. Five, he thought to himself, would’ve been _pissed_. Or fascinated. Maybe both. He loved physics dearly, Klaus remembered that.

He curled in on himself.

It was too dark. It was too silent.

He wanted to get out of there, he wanted to call for help, he wanted to do _something_ , but he’d been through all of this before, hadn’t he? And it hadn’t led him anywhere. The last thing he wanted was to experience all of that again, to feel himself walking without moving, or speaking without being heard. There was no way out, he knew that instinctively, and no one there to help him. So what could he do?

But then there was noise.

A voice, distant but… Familiar. He’d know that voice anywhere, and it was impossible, he knew that it was impossible, but he didn’t care - if his mind was tricking him, trying to give him something to which to cling, then so be it, he’d cling to it until it was ripped away from him. He’d take whatever he could get.

And there was a light, a dim, blueish light, which was slowly taking the shape of…

Ben.

_Ben._

Klaus let out a relieved laugh, tears already freely streaming down his face. He reached out towards him, legs already moving of their own accord.

And then he was jerking awake again, scattering papers everywhere as his limbs flayed and sent them flying around the room. He breathed in deeply, gasping for air, and for a moment he thought that he’d see his brother by his side, standing by with a defibrillator, because it felt like he hadn’t actually taken a breath for a good couple of minutes.

Diego was by his side, but the look on his face…

He was pretty sure that he hadn’t just revived him.

Klaus pushed himself into a sitting position, taking in a shaky breath as that turned out to be far more effortful than it should have been. He realized that he was shaking, and once again covered in sweat. This time, he didn’t need to check to know that his nose was bleeding. What was up with that?

“What happened?” He asked, frowning. Oh, he was pretty sure that he knew what Diego’s theory would be, and whatever this was, it was reaching a level where Klaus quite honestly didn’t blame him, but he still had to ask. Part of him almost wondered whether there wasn’t something to that theory, but it wasn’t possible, was it? He hadn’t taken anything, and he’d come straight to Diego from the hospital - no one could have slipped him anything. The test results showed that his blood had been clean for a while already, so he doubted that it was withdrawal. Minor symptoms could have been chalked up to that, sure, but this? It was too much.

There was a long pause, then Diego cleared his throat and, hesitantly, began to answer. “You passed out. I couldn’t w - wake you up, so I w - was about to call for an ambulance w - when…” He trailed off.

Klaus frowned.

Something was wrong. Something was seriously wrong.

He hated the fact that Diego was so used to situations like this, to him passing out and not being able to be woken up, to having to call for an ambulance, to watching as his heart stilled, never knowing whether they’d be able to get it started again or if this was the time he lost another brother. Really, it was things like that that usually led to his voluntary stints in rehab. But the fact was that Diego _was_ used to it. It always scared him, Klaus knew that it did, but not like this, not anymore.

Something was wrong.

“Diego?” He asked, his voice growing more gentle, which only made the fear in it all the more obvious. He’d been going for comforting, but - well, he’d take what he could get, he supposed.

That seemed to help, at least, and Diego blinked. “There was a light, a - “

“A blue light.” Klaus completed.

“Yeah. And then - “

“Ben.”

“How did you know?”

Klaus’ heart was racing, and the words caught in his throat. Diego had seen him, too. No one had ever seen the ghosts that he saw. How was this possible?

“Because I… Because I saw him, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!


	4. I Might Reach You

Diego, Klaus thought to himself as he turned off the shower after hearing his brother knock on the door for what he was pretty sure was the fourth time, needed to learn some patience. It was his fault, he reasoned, for not having a bathtub - a bath would have been far more soothing and far kinder on the water supply. He couldn’t deny, though, that the sound of the water falling from the showerhead was incredibly relaxing, and a welcome distraction from the silence that seemed to try to engulf him.

Why did he ever think this would be a good thing again?

But then he closed his eyes and they were there again, hands reaching towards him, ghostly faces saying his name over and over, begging for his acknowledgement, his attention, his help and -

No, this was better. This was better.

But Ben wasn’t there, and Ben was worth whatever hell the ghosts put him through.

Klaus wrapped a towel around himself and left the bathroom, offering Diego a radiant smile that only made his brother scowl. _Perfect_. “Diego, I feel _so_ refreshed. I love the water pressure in your showers, it's almost non-existent. It’s like… Taking a shower in the drizzle. Truly a one-of-a-kind experience.”

“Yeah, you can complain to Al later, if you want.” Klaus smiled, and Diego let out a sigh, shaking his head. “Fine, go ahead, that one’s on me.”

He wasn’t actually going to complain to Al. Probably. Really, it depended on how the rest of the night went. As much as he loved getting on Diego’s nerves in a way that only a sibling could, he had to admit that his brother was being - well, he was being a pretty great brother. Maybe this time he’d get a pass.

“Now come on, we’ve gotta talk about what happened.” Diego said, starting to head back to his boiler room.

Klaus took a deep breath and followed after him. This was exactly what he’d been dreading, and he knew that they had to talk about it, he knew that something really weird was going on, and from the way that it left him feeling like he was coming down from a bender, he figured it probably wasn’t good news.

He’d seen Ben, though. He’d seen Ben, and Diego had seen Ben, and - that was good, right?

But the truth was that he didn’t want to even think about that place again. That emptiness, that darkness, that deafening silence… Every time he closed his eyes he could feel it all again, and he was starting to think that maybe he’d rather see the ghosts. What if Diego asked him to go back there? He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t take it, he _couldn’t_. There was a part of him that was telling him that he had to, that it might be the only way he’d ever see Ben again, but he knew, he just knew as instinctively as one knows that they need to breathe, that if he went back there again, he wouldn’t be coming back whole.

Still, he followed after Diego and took a seat on the couch. The floor, he noted, was no longer littered with the dozens of papers they’d scattered over it, and instead those laid in a neat pile on the kitchen counter. And that, Klaus thought to himself, was probably the most use Diego had gotten out of them since he’d moved in.

He really needed to teach his brother how to cook.

Then again, if he did that, he might lose one of his biggest bargaining chips for when he needed a place to crash. Diego never admitted it, but Klaus knew that his brother loved having some home-cooked food. Granted, he seemed to take an issue with the hours at which Klaus decided to cook, but he generally calmed down after trying a few bites of whatever he was making.

“Okay, so… You conjured Ben.” Diego started, nodding slightly.

Klaus nodded back. “Yep. Dear ol’ Benny. He doesn’t usually look that blue, though. Maybe he’s trying out a new style. It’s about time he ditched that hoodie, I’ve been trying to introduce him to some more interesting fashion for a while.”

“Is he here now?”

“I told you, I can’t see any ghosts.” Klaus shook his head.

“But you conjured Ben. That’s got to mean your powers are still working.” Diego pointed out, and there was such a hopeful tone in his voice that it made Klaus’ heart sink.

He wanted him to conjure Ben again. Of course he did - if Klaus missed him after not seeing him for a single day, Diego must miss him a million times more. And he wanted to do it, he really did, but he knew that anyone hoping that he could do something with his powers was just setting themselves up for disappointment - he never could, ever. The fact that he could see Ben was the one good thing that ever came out of it, and he hadn’t even done that on purpose. He’d just looked over to the place where Ben had always sat in the car on their drive back home following that mission, and there he’d been, looking distant and covered in blood, but _there_.

If he’d tried to conjure him, Klaus was pretty sure that he’d have failed.

“Diego, I - I don’t know if I can do that again.” He pointed out, and his tone was pleading, begging him not to set his expectations high, not to count on him being able to repeat whatever had happened earlier because he was almost sure that he couldn’t and he knew he couldn’t bear to disappoint him like that.

Diego blinked, frowned for the briefest of seconds, and then he shook his head. “No, no, I know.” He assured him. “Uh - I’m just saying, you’ve still got it. Whatever it is that makes it so that you can talk to ghosts, it’s still there, we just gotta figure out what happened, why it’s…Different now. What happened? Did you… Feel anything?”

How could he explain it? How could he explain an all-encompassing darkness, an absence of matter, of sound, of light, of temperature? Truth to be told, Klaus wasn’t sure that he wanted to explain it. Just the thought of it sent shivers down his spine - he never wanted to go back there again. If it weren’t for the fact that he’d seen his brother there, he’d have wanted to erase that memory from his brain.

If it weren’t for Ben, he might be halfway there already.

“I was - I was somewhere. It wasn’t a dream, it can’t have been a dream. Diego, it was - “ He was shaking, arms crossed over his chest tightly, tears burning in his eyes. The darkness, the mausoleum, the silence, the ghosts clawing at him, calling his name, the all-devouring emptiness, and then… Ben. Ben. He needed to get through this for Ben. “It was dark. It was so, so dark. Remember when we were kids and - and we’d climb up to the attic?”

Diego chuckled slightly, nodding. “Yeah. You wouldn’t - you wouldn’t go unless someone held your hand because you were scared of the dark.” A fond smile formed on Diego’s lips for a while, and it got the corners of Klaus’ lips to twitch up slightly. “Yeah, it was pretty dark, though. We tripped over half the steps on our way there because we couldn’t see two feet ahead of us.”

“Yeah, that’s a sunny afternoon at the beach compared to that place. It was… There wasn’t a single speck of light, and it was so quiet, and when I tried to speak it was like the sound didn’t carry at all. I couldn’t find the floor, and when I tried to walk, I’m not sure I even took a step. I’m not sure it’s possible to _take_ a step there. It’s a good thing I’ve never been into sports, huh? And - it wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t warm, either. I - I don’t think there’s such a thing as temperature there. But the second time I was there, the second time… I saw Ben. He wasn’t there at first, but then he called my name and I could _see_ him, Diego. There was this blue light and I could _see_ him.” He was crying. He hadn’t even noticed it, he wasn’t sure when it’d started, but he was crying, tears streaming freely down his face, lips trembling as he hugged himself even more tightly.

He missed Ben. He missed Ben, and he was so, so scared of whatever was happening to him. Ben would know what to say, he thought to himself, he’d know just what to say to calm him down. He was good with that, with people. Klaus always wondered whether he wouldn’t have gone into something like Social Services if he hadn’t died. He might’ve been really good at it.

“Hey, we’re gonna figure this out.” Diego promised him. “You’re gonna see him again, and when you do… Say hi to him for me.”

Klaus nodded, offering Diego a small smile.

At least now his brother believed him. If nothing else came from this, then… At least Diego believed him. After all these years… That was no small victory.

“Okay, we both need to get some rest, so… Get dressed, and you can take the bed. You’ve earned it.”

Klaus let out a small laugh. “Aw, Diego, you sure know how to make a guy feel special.”

That earned him a light slap upside the head as Diego walked past him. “Shut up."

  


* * *

  


He opened his eyes, and he was back there again.

Or were they still closed?

Klaus raised a hand up to them and touched his eyelids gingerly. No, they were open. He was back there again. His heart was racing, but he couldn’t feel his own pulse, he couldn’t feel the warmth generated by his own body. He found himself wondering whether the only reason he could even feel his own body was because he thought he ought to be able to feel it.

He decided against testing that theory.

After double-checking that his eyes were still open, he twirled himself to the side, trying to see if he could spot Ben. He wasn’t sure that he was moving, not beyond feeling the movement of his muscles - he couldn’t feel the light resistance of the air on his body, he couldn’t see any reference points through which to orient himself. But he did what he could, twirling and rolling and flipping in every direction, just to be sure he’d covered all bases.

But Ben wasn’t there.

His chest was feeling tight again. He tried to take a few deep breaths, but he just found himself wondering whether there even was any air in this place. He laughed at that. Or was that crying? He wasn’t sure anymore.

Was it possible for him to die there? To simply suffocate? He wasn’t sure. Part of him wondered whether he was already dead. Was this what death felt like? He’d been dead a few times already, depending on what your definition of dead is, but he could never quite remember what it felt like - he just remembered the exhilaration of being brought back, usually as high as he could be. Maybe this was the in-between, what happened after his heart stopped and before it started again.

It felt like death, like everything he imagined death would be.

No, no, no, no, he couldn’t go down that rabbit hole, not now. He needed to be strong, he needed to be strong for Ben, for Diego, he needed to find his way back. But he’d never been strong, had he? His father had always said that he was weak, so had his siblings, so had so, so many people. He tried, he did, but he just wasn’t like the others. He wasn’t.

Klaus swallowed, biting back tears. Somehow, he had to do it. He had to get through this for them.

So he closed his eyes, and he tried to think of something he could cling to, something that could help him get through this. He thought of the night before their birthday when they were about to turn twelve, the time that Ben stayed up with him to help him remake the cards he’d been working on the whole week only to have Sir Reginald throw them away, claiming that it was a childish tradition and a waste of his time. Although Ben’s usual handwriting was just as messy and Klaus’, it’d turned out that he could make a beautiful calligraphy, so he’d ended up in charge of lettering while Klaus worked on the drawings. They’d stayed up until the crack of dawn, though they both knew that they could have finished much earlier if they’d focused on the task instead of chatting the night away.

It’d all been so much fun that Klaus almost hadn’t minded the fact that the original cards were thrown out.

Almost.

He thought of the weeks following their first mission, when Ben had nightmares pretty much every day, and Klaus would come up with different things for them to do over their sleepless nights - Klaus himself had never been one to get eight uninterrupted hours of sleep. He remembered stealing Luther’s record player once and sneaking off to the furthest reaches of the house and throwing a small party with Ben, he remembered reading those serious books that his brother had always liked and persuading Ben to give something a little more light-hearted a try, he remembered probably ill-advised adventures in the kitchen where they tried to cook a special breakfast for the others.

He missed Ben.

He really missed Ben.

His eyes opened, and there he was - Ben, standing right in front of him. There was no blue light this time, only Ben, just as he remembered. Klaus let out a small laugh of surprise and sheer happiness, tears stinging at his eyes once again, hands moving to cover his mouth. Ben smiled, more contained, but his eyes were sparkling and Klaus _knew_ that he was just as happy.

“Klaus.” He said, and that single word came in such a relieved tone that Klaus had to wonder how many times it’d gone unheard.

He let out another laugh of exhilaration. “Ben!” He laughed, and it sounded so much like a giggle that he had to laugh once again, until the tears that were spilling from his eyes could be of happiness, relief, or laughter.

It might very well be all three.

“I didn’t leave. I know you were wondering.” Ben assured him. “A few times while you were out, but… I was there when you woke up. You just couldn’t see me. I - I tried to talk you. I’ve been trying since then.”

More tears slipped out of his eyes, falling quickly.

“I know. I know, I know.” He nodded, trying to swallow down the lump that formed in his throat. He didn’t know how long he had, and he refused to spend his time with Ben simply crying, no matter how tempted he was to do just that. “Ben, what is this place?”

Ben shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve never been here before.”

“You’d think they’d put in a sign or something, huh?”

“Maybe they did and you just can’t see it.” Ben pointed out, a knowing smirk on his lips.

Klaus let out a small laugh. “True, true.”

They stood in silence for a while, and Klaus cursed himself for not coming up with some kind of conversation topic - and wasn’t that a first? - but nothing seemed appropriate. He was terrified that he would have to leave without having said the most important things he’d earmarked that he wanted to tell Ben, and he knew his silence only made that all the more likely, and yet he couldn’t seem to make the words leave his mouth.

“So, uh…” Klaus started, chuckling slightly as he realized that the one time he was speechless was the one time he wanted to say something the most. “Oh, Diego says hello!” Klaus raised his right hand, and was delighted to find that the ‘HELLO’ tattoo was still there.

Ben smiled. “Yeah, I know.”“Right, right, you were there. So, I think we’ve got some conclusive proof to our ‘Diego is really just a big softie’ theory. Did you see that he _comforted_ me? Must be at least twice already! I’m just… Truly shocked. It’s almost like dear ol’ Dad is losing his influence. Makes me wonder whether he’s going to just suddenly turn a corner somewhere and show up to top us up on our emotional damage.” He chuckled somewhat brokenly at that, a sad smile on his lips. “Yeah, like we really need that. And you _know_ I don’t handle jump scares well - Dad suddenly turning a corner or stepping out of the shadows is like…” He shuddered. “The worst jump scare of them all. I’d give him points for the dramatic entrance, though - every bad guy needs a good entrance, right?”

Ben had been watching the whole rant with a small smile on his face, but he interrupted him then. “Hey, Klaus?” He glanced over at his brother, and his stomach sank when he saw the sad smile on his lips. “I think you’re waking up now. I’ll be right there with you, okay? I’m not leaving. You’re gonna figure this out.”

“No, no, no, no, I don’t want to go, no yet, no!” He protested, fighting that yanking feeling that tried to drag him away, He could feel something thrumming in his veins, something strong, something burning cold, and when he opened his eyes, he realized that the darkness was no more - there was only light, a blinding light that barely allowed him to discern Ben a mere couple of feet away from him.

Ben placed a hand on him, and - 

He could _feel_ it.

“You have to go, Klaus. You can’t get stuck here.”

No.

No, he didn’t want to go.

He couldn’t go, not yet, it was too soon, it was too soon and he was _happy_ there, he was happy talking to Ben. He couldn’t go, he couldn’t, no, no, no, _please_.

But he could hear Diego in the background.

It was faint, like something intruding upon a dream, but it was there. He was saying nice, comforting words ( _Diego, you big softie_ ), and gently asking him to wake up. He wondered for how long he’d been asleep. It didn’t feel like long. But what if it had been, and Diego was worried? He’d already been selfish so many times before, he already hurt his brother so much, and he knew, deep down, that Diego deserved better than that. He liked to act tough, but he was the only one who looked out for him, he was the only one who defended him. The only one aside from Ben, of course.

So he took a shaky breath and nodded, trying and failing to offer Ben a smile in goodbye. Instead, he just raised his left hand, letting the tattoo say the words that got stuck in his throat.

“Klaus? You’re doing great. Just remember that.”

With that, Klaus gave up on holding it in and let himself cry. Tears blurred his vision, and he could hardly see the light turn to darkness, taking Ben with it.

  


* * *

  


There were arms catching him, a voice telling him that it was okay.

How could it be okay when his lungs were burning, begging him for more air? He breathed in deep and raggedly, bringing oxygen into his body with shuddering, gasping breaths. His ears were ringing, the world was spinning, but it all grew easier to bear as the seconds ticked by, the ringing fading, the spinning slowing.

Within a minute or two of him waking up, he was actually able to take in his surroundings. The arms around him belonged to Diego, as did the voice trying to calm him down. He was at the hospital, and from the tired look on his brother’s face, he’d wager it’d been longer than just a couple of hours.

What was going on with him?

“Diego.” He said, his voice carrying equal parts of surprise and confusion. It was a little hoarse and it sounded as tired as he felt, but he cleared his throat and kept going. “What’s going on?”

“Same thing again.” Diego let out a small sigh and ran a hand over his face. Klaus wondered which one of them looked the most exhausted, and decided it was likely a tie. “I thought if I gave you some time you’d wake up like you did the other times, but it was taking too long and I - I couldn’t just do nothing. They ran a bunch of tests, and… They can’t figure out what’s happening.”

Klaus leaned back against his pillows, letting out a loud sigh.

“I saw Ben again.” He said after a moment, letting his eyes fall closed for a moment. “We talked this time. He - he’s here, Diego. I can’t see him, but… He’s here.”

Diego’s eyes lit up, and he glanced around the room. Klaus could guess where Ben might be, but he decided against pointing out the spot between the chair and the wall. This was Diego’s moment, and he didn’t want to ruin it with the harsh reality that none of them could see Ben anymore.

“Uh - hey. Hey… Bro.” He hesitantly said, waving randomly around the room.

Klaus had to suppress a chuckle.

“Does he know anything about what’s going on?” Diego asked after a moment, moving to sit back on his chair. Klaus found himself wondering whether Ben had been sitting there, and hoping he hadn’t. He really hated it when people phased through him.

“No, I don’t think so. He says he’s never been… Wherever I go.” Klaus shrugged slightly.

Stretching, letting his joints pop and hoping to make himself feel a little less crappy, Klaus sat up. “Okay, are they serving lunch yet? I think we should go, but I’m not missing lunch.”

“You’re not missing hospital food?” Diego raised an eyebrow at him.

Klaus shrugged once again. “Hey, free food is free food. And I’m not turning down a hot meal. Ooh, do you think they have jell-o? Do they have green jell-o? Or red, I like red, too. Ooh, purple! But they never have purple. Ben- uh, I mean, Diego - ”

His eyes fell on the chair in front of the bed, where a pair of black skinny jeans and a glittery purple shirt were neatly folded. The shirt even seemed to still have its tag, and the jeans looked stiff enough that he was willing to bet it was new, too. That was weird. “Hey, Diego…”

His brother cut him off, standing up and making his way to the clothes. “Uh, yeah, I thought… I thought you might like some new clothes when you woke up. The guy at the store picked these out for you.”

“Aww, Diego, I always knew you were a fashionista at heart.” Klaus placed a hand over his chest, giving his brother a teasing look. His eyes went back to the clothes, though, scanning them carefully, and soon enough, he was raising an impressed eyebrow. “Not bad, guy at the store. Hey, do you think - “

“On the back of the receipt.” Diego said, tossing the bag over to Klaus, who caught it with a happy yelp. “I told him a few stories, and I’ve gotta say, Klaus, if anyone can hear about all your crazy shit and still want to go out with you? He’s a keeper.”

Klaus chuckled slightly, fishing the receipt from out of the bag and reading over the numbers with a smile on his face. Maybe he’d call him. But later, once all of this was sorted.

A thought occurred to him, though, and he frowned slightly. “Hey, Diego, not that I don’t appreciate your sudden need to update my wardrobe, but… Did you just drop me off here, go shopping and come back in time for lunch or…?”

Oh, no,

Klaus knew that look. It that was ‘we’ve gotta talk, but you’re not going to like this and you’re a flight risk so I’m going start this conversation very gently’. It usually preceded talks about taking him to rehab, but he was clean, so he had no idea what this could possible be. Maybe Diego was done helping him? He could understand that, even if it hurt. He had a life, after all, didn’t he? And he’d heard enough lectures to know that he had a tendency to get in the way. He’d never forget the great Police Academy Finals Showdown of… Well, he didn’t remember the date, but the point still stood.

Diego sat back down on his chair, leaning forward as he began to speak. “Klaus… It’s - it’s been a few days, buddy.”

“What?”

The world seemed to freeze for a long moment.

No, that wasn’t possible. It’d been… Maybe a few hours, he could see it being a few hours, but he barely spoke with Ben for ten minutes, and he was in that place for only a few minutes before that, too. It couldn’t be days. That wasn’t possible.

“They don’t know what this is, but… The way it’s progressing, these - these episodes getting longer each time, the toll it’s taking on you… They think it’s killing you, Klaus. They can’t find any evidence of it, but they’re worried that if it happens a few more times, you might not wake up.” 

Klaus wasn’t afraid of dying.

Many people said that he was a little too okay with the concept, and he pretended like it was because he’d spent his whole life surrounded by ghosts. There was more to it, he knew, but it was easier to just shrug it off. He saved actually talking about it to the therapy sessions he managed to get here and there, during one stint in rehab or another.

But the thought of being stuck in that emptiness forever, even with Ben by his side… Of that, he was terrified.

“No, no, no, no - Diego, please, you can’t let that happen, please, you have to - “

Diego was by his side, hugging him, and Klaus didn’t understand how he could possibly have gotten there so quickly, but it didn’t matter. He let himself melt into the embrace, and if there were tears spilling from his eyes… Diego’s suit was made of treated leather, it’d live.

“I know.” He said after a moment, nodding slightly. “I won’t, okay? But… We’ve gotta figure this out, Klaus, and these doctors, they can’t help us. You’re right, they don’t know the first thing about our powers.”

Klaus swallowed, wiping the tears from his eyes and pushing away from Diego so that he could look at him. “How, then?”

Diego sighed, then took a deep breath before speaking. “We go to the person who studied us for most of our lives.”

“No. You don’t mean - ”

“Dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: I'm going to be consistent and write chapters that are about 3500 words in length!  
> Also me: -starts writing 4500 words chapters-
> 
> Anyway, I foreshadowed this before, and now here it is! And again, I'd love to know what you guys are thinking (I've lowkey been looking forward to writing this chapter since I started this story) xD


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